


John and Rodney, reading

by heynonnynonny



Series: crackfic/badfic/metafic [1]
Category: Fandom - Fandom, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: All The Tropes, Crack, F/M, M/M, Multi, Roleplay, everything but the kitchen sink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-27
Updated: 2011-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heynonnynonny/pseuds/heynonnynonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can John and Rodney be outmatched? Not when they bring their best assets -- their dorkiness, brilliance, mocking skills, and most of all, their team! -- to the battle.</p><p>or:</p><p>A story where, if we believe their words, John and Rodney are moderately intelligent though not always nice. But whatever else they are, they're destined -- to struggle terribly with awful context.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Badfic with severe identity issues. Many clichés. Bad language. OTT OOC. Elements ~~borrowed from~~ homaged all over the place.

"Fuck," John snarled. "Remind me why we do this again?"

"It's tradition. An 'Earth-cultural tradition that also provides team-bonding opportunities' is how I believe you lied about it to Elizabeth to get her to initially agree to the resource allocation and shift changes," Rodney said.

Forty-five minutes later Rodney was the unhappy one.

***

"Why am I such an asshole in half of these?" Rodney said, grumpily peering at John over his adorable yet hot little gold-wire-rimmed glasses. John made him wear them a lot when they were alone.

"Well, Raaaawdney," said John, "That's because you actually _are_ kind of an asshole. I'm surprised you're only accurately described in _half_."

"Pffft -- pot, kettle," said Rodney. "You're a _total_ asshole with severe emotional constipation and issues up the wazoo in the other half. Or you're the saddest little fucked-up sub in subville. I'm a pretty awesome Dom in several of these, you know," he preened.

"That's weird," said John. "Those aren't AUs, right? Because in the BDSM AUs _I'm_ always the totally hot Dom who can make you come just by looking, and _you're_ the one who was abused and only needs the love of a good strong man who beats you a lot to make you whole."

"See, what did I say? Complete asshole, that's you," said Rodney.

"Fuck you -- a, you're usually _begging_ for it in those, and b, who flew you to Stockholm so you could piss on their Royal Academy building from a cloaked Jumper, huh? Me. If that's not thoughtful and romantic and un-asshole-ish, I don't know what is," moped John.

"Fine, I'll give you that. And you can fuck me later, you big stud," Rodney said, leering hopefully.

"I don't think so. See, our calendar says it's _my_ turn to get fucked," said John, looking down to hide the sparkles and rainbows in his eyes at the idea that now, finally, his and Rodney's calendar-apps were _shared_.

After they'd loudly disagreed about the calendar and who was responsible for what buggy part of the scheduling manager code for a while -- and less loudly agreed to table the agenda item of who'd fuck who until later -- they took a break to grab some citrus-free food from the mess. So Rodney wouldn't get hypothermia from low blood sugar. Then they took their laptops and some beers out to the pier to continue with their task.

***

Three beers later, John said, "It looks like there's no full-on BDSM AUs this time -- just a few with regular-world hardcore S/M between missions and stuff. Except when, hey, check this one out, Teyla's topping both of us, separately, because of Wraith enzyme or Lucius' drug or something, it's not too clear, before we escape the -- oh, my favorite! -- frequent caning, and get her fixed and then we get together and only do rope bondage because it turns out we're not into pain." said John.

"Sad but true," said Rodney. "Don't they realize that between getting captured and shot all the time -- with arrows even! -- I just want to come home to some nice vanilla sex and maybe a cuddle -- as long as you're not too sweaty -- before the damn radio goes off with the next crisis? When would we ever have time for an adventurous sex life? Let alone to recover from it?"

"Granted, that's what we think now. But I've gotta say, back when I was with Ronon I was kinkier than I am with you."

"Eh, you're not the only one -- so was I, with Jennifer. Both of them are significantly younger than we are, plus fitter -- oh, sorry, princess! I meant 'they have more stamina.' Why wouldn't they want to experiment a lot and find their limits, or frankly, be more demanding with their partners?" said Rodney, before turning to John with an adoring look and saying, "Whereas we're a meant-to-be, true love pairing of two middle-aged geeks who think bad sci-fi movies are the ultimate foreplay."

"Way to kill the mood there, McKay. I can tell you you're not getting laid tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous -- it's completely true; I'm right, as usual. Although you're a very attractive middle-aged geek of course," Rodney backpedalled.

"That is not working as a save, Rodney."

"Fine, we'll roleplay. You always like that."

"Dibs on Ronon."

"You never let me be Ronon, you ass. On your head be it," Rodney said, shifting his voice to a falsetto.

"Ooooh, fuck me harder," he chirped. "That's it, no, more of a twist, yes, hold me down, wait, careful with the wrists -- I've got two surgeries tomorrow -- fuck me, deeper, hit my G-spot, it's _right_ there! Again, again, no, don't stop -- did I say slow down? Harder, Ronon, deeper!"

John gave him a smoldering look and parried with, "Talk dirty to me, babe. Talk dirty doctor talk to me. Tell me what you're gonna do to me. Tell me you want to examine me. Tell me about your medical degrees. Tell me you got them at the Satedan Medical Institute -- tell me in Satedan, oh, oh, fuck yeah, I'm coming!" John fake-growled.

After they stopped laughing they looked at each other. "Kinda mean-spirited, isn't it, McKay?" John drawled. "Mocking our exes like that."

"It is deeply affectionate mocking, you idiot. They're still our friends so we get to make fun of them!" Rodney said. "Now let's go back to seriously mocking total strangers. Look at how many we still have left to read!"

***

John was smart. He'd remembered to bring a bottle of Radek's still-special rotgut so they could turn it into a drinking game.

As they ended up doing every time.

Take a swig for Aliens made them, John on his knees, Rodney inappropriately touching Ancient technology, John having problems being touched, Radek not using prepositions, Teyla being serene, descriptions of Rodney's eyes or John's hair, Ronon being called "the warrior" or "the tall Satedan," any mention of soulbonds, Keller being a bitch, double swigs for Rodney being a bitch or John being a bitch, triple swig for either of them getting off on being called a bitch, five shots and a beer for any example that managed a whole bingo card -- kink or fail or whatever the other ones were -- by itself. And more drinks for any one of another 387 common (Rodney had spreadsheeted them. Wash that a word? Tonight it wash. Was. _And_ he'd written a nice script that diagrammed -- in several formats -- frequent correlations!) sexual or narrative kinks they'd identified.

Looking at the bottle, there was a lot less of the bright-pink swill left in it than earlier.

***

John was slurring his words a little by the time he said, "Well, at least I'm not asexual in any of these. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Just, can't they come up with more _different_ ways of characterizing me or interrogating the text from a non-normative perspective?" he whined.

"You have no right to issues here, fly-boy," said Rodney. "Usually you're just really repressed -- and in a handful you're asexual or trans. Or psychotic. With guns. Mmm, that's kind of hot. Wait, where was I? Oh, right -- but me! Do you _realize_ how often I've been suicidal in these things? Or come from an abusive background? Or seemingly consented to _ongoing_ abuse? Much more than you! So you shut up about your characterization until _you've_ got long pages of lists devoted to how pathetic you are! Besides, being asexual should give you a nice break from being a completely indiscriminate slut. Kirk."

***

"Rodney, listen to this one -- we're fucking like bunnies --"

"We're bunnies?" Rodney said, wide-eyed and definitely drunk.

"No, I think that was Ronon and Teyla a few years ago. In this one we just fuck like bunnies -- we're at it like every 10 minutes. See:" Once he found his fingers, John started counting on them, "In my quarters, in your lab, on the conference table, in the armory, in the gateroom, offworld, in prison offworld, in the rescue jumper --"

"Hello! That's ridiculous -- what kind of refractory period do they think we have? We're not 17 anymore! Fucking three times a week is a goal these days, not a minimum. Unless -- did we find an Ancient sexual rejuvenation device?" Rodney asked wistfully.

"Nope, not in this one. There's another one where an Ancient plot-device turns us into 16-year-olds," John said. "But that one's marked PG, so we probably won't be fucking in it, just holding hands and making out."

"As long as it's not another high school musical AU," Rodney grumbled.

"But honey, it's always so adorable when you're secretly the best singer!" John smirked.

"Can't they give it a break? I wish I'd never said that. LISTEN UP, ALL OF YOU! _I really wasn't that musical. Yes, I tried and failed piano, but it did not break my heart forever and I would not have been the next Franz Liszt had I continued anyway!_ " Rodney yelled, shaking his fist at the sky.

"Oh, c'mon, you don't think it's cute how they all idealize us and think we're the best thing ever, whatever we are, even if it's with 12 tons of sugar on top? 'My sweet Meredith'?" John said.

"Back when they did, sure. Fifty-thousand words on the glory of my intellect and my incredibly kissable ass, how well I made the minions cry, your competence at protecting me, your bizarre hair and how you're hiding some brains under there, those I didn't mind. Much," Rodney sighed. "But god, maybe it's just that we've gotten older or more disillusioned, but now in the ones that have plot at all I'm an insecure rageaholic with fidelity issues or you're a jerk with inappropriate love of unknown Ancient tech and violence. Or I'm still pining for Jennifer, except when you're only with me to piss off your remaining family members -- who probably liked Ronon better anyway. Judging these is not really fun anymore."

"Oh McKay, you're just having an off day," John said. "For now rate 'em all "one" for enjoyment, and I'm sure your mocking skills will be back tomorrow when we go in and do real comments."

"God, I hope so. Did you remember to book the third-level conference room?"

"Yes, dear. All of us will meet there at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow for the team commenting session. And Teyla needs you to bring her a new laptop."

"Why?" asked Rodney.

"She said she snorted caramel machiatto all over the keyboard when she was reading something and now the screen keeps going green," John replied.

***

"Whoa!," said John. "Someone did first comment on one of them as poetry, and there's something -- here -- tell me if this sounds like Carter to you, or maybe Jackson egging Carter on?  
" _Your story touched my  
core, molten in summer nights,  
hot John and Rodney!_"

"Don't be stupid. er." said Rodney. "That's either Jackson and Vala _if_ Sam spilled the beans, or it's some real reader sucking up big in a very unfortunate way to try and win one of the commenting prizes."

He looked for more beer, but realized they'd drunk it all. The city's towers looked too far away to get more. He didn't want more of the pink stuff and besides he couldn't see where the bottle was. Maybe John was hoarding it or drowning his sorrows in it or fondling it with intent.... Rodney decided that when they were sober(ish) they'd call it a night and return to their quarters.

Their shared quarters, with his diplomas and John's poster on the wall. And the prettiest curtains in Atlantis! Even if the two Ancient beds welded together were still uncomfortable and too small.

***

A few hours later most of the booze had worn off. The moon shone down on them, illuminating the scene of two hot guys having a quality date together, and there were as many stars twinkling in the night sky as there were POVs, quantum mirror universes, and complete AUs. That was metaphor. Or maybe allegory. Something that wasn't even a soft science, anyway.

John sat up and stretched, showing off a tanned (all that surfing) sliver of belly. Rodney didn't have to look away anymore. Except this time he did, because John had that vicious take-no-prisoners look in his eyes. And Rodney was still kind of a coward.

When John growled in displeasure the source of his anger became clear:

"Goddamn it, _another_ one without warnings. What is it with these people?" he hissed.

"Shut up, you didn't get the one with surprise bestiality," said Rodney.

"What, again?" asked John.

"No, last year's was warned for, and it was -- well, I didn't need brain bleach. In this one, the way to turn your human mate into a werewolf is during sex as a... oh god, I wish I'd stopped reading. _Where_ do they get this crap from?" groaned Rodney.

"Duh, bleedover from one of the other white-cock fandoms -- isn't that what Ronon said after he'd been on FFA?" said John.

"Is he trolling the memes again? Ha, I knew teaching him how to properly hack routers and code would pay off! Admit it, I'm brilliant at resource management besides everything else," said Rodney, smugly.

"Yeah, and Lorne pre-made a bunch of F!S for Ronon to whale on _and_ is working on pixel-by-pixel critique of all the art entries. It's hilarious," said John.

"I'll give you that you were smart to recruit Lorne. But what's the deal -- I mean, I still love Jen -- no, like a _friend_ now, you dunce! -- but what's with her not wanting to have anything to do with the whole thing this time?" asked Rodney, plaintively.

"Uh, maybe that she's more mature than some of us?" said John.

"How can you say that, you moron? We're mature! So are our other friends! I think. Just thank god Teyla managed to get Carson trained on how to sound like a 24-year-old getting a Masters in Sociology while she does the high-concept meta and recs or we'd be hosed this year."

John gave Rodney a fond look and smiled happily.

"We've got the best team, don't we?" he concluded, "With them, no matter what, we can overcome enemies and naysayers and ship-jumpers and emerge victorious from any battle, war -- or match!"

 

* * * *


	2. bonus content

*  
*  
*  
*

 **Voting Results. Participants: 11**   


**How well did this entry fit its prompt?**

 **Answers:** "Well." "Sort of." "What prompt?" "Very well." "42." "It was most certainly badfic."

 **How much did you enjoy this entry?**

 **Answers:** "Not at all." "Yawn." "How does this culture define 'enjoy'?" "More than the necrophilia entry." "So cute!!! John♥Rodney forever!1!1!" "I only threw up in my mouth a little." "LOL, except for the boring parts."


End file.
